


Memories

by R_4_L



Category: Final Fantasy VII
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-04
Updated: 2018-11-04
Packaged: 2019-08-18 18:33:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16522424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R_4_L/pseuds/R_4_L
Summary: Tseng's office is spotless.  All paperwork is filed in the proper spots, his pen is to the right just within hands reach, his desk looks like it should be in a show room somewhere.  The book case has books on all types of topics, but no photos.  There seems to be nothing personal except the various object that don't seem to fit the decor at all.  Just what are these items?





	Memories

**Author's Note:**

> I don't own FFvii This is written strictly for fun. I hope you enjoy it.

Tseng was pissed at the way his Turks were regarded by the general public. And make no mistake they were definitely HIS Turks. Rufus may be the head of Shinra now, paying the bills and trying to make up for all the shit his father had caused, but the Turks were his. Veld was the one who had hand-picked each man. Determining who had the fortitude to do the job asked without question, to follow orders without question, to take whatever insults and refuse was hurtled at them from the general public without a second thought, but at the heart of it the Turks were Tsengs. He was the one who walked the floors of the hospital quarters when one of them was hurt. He made sure that they each of them had a safe place to sleep, that they had food to eat. He was the one who knew each of their weaknesses and worked hard to protect them in which ever way he could. He looked around his office, there wasn't any picture. Pictures meant there was a way to track an individual and use them as blackmail. What he had were items; each one held a memory. Walking around the room his fingers grazed each one allowing the memories to flood his mind.

Everyone always talked about Reno and the hell his childhood was. Tseng wasn't arguing with the facts. Reno was the most well known because he grew up in the area and with his bright red hair and loud mouth he wasn't all that forgettable. The thing was all of the Turks had hellish upbringings. That's one of the reasons they were recruited. After all it took a special kind of crazy to be desperate enough to do some of the shit jobs that Shinra asked of them, to be ostracized by the rest of the military, and ignored by the public. 

Sitting behind his desk, Tseng looked around the room. As his eyes landed on each object memories bombarded him.

The torn helicopter blade was only about three feet in length, but it was Reno to the core. Twisted to a point but tempered and stronger for it. Reno dealt with the everyday struggles of being a street rat born addicted to too many drugs to count. The result was a form of ADHD, it suited his personality, but made it difficult to pin the guy down in order to get paperwork done. Of course the fact that the guy is functionally illiterate has nothing to do with it. 

On a bookshelf was a pair of broken sunglasses, they were thin and looked like one of the many of thousands of pairs sold by street vendors, but Tseng knew, these were ones that Reno bought by time and again after he broke his partners first pair, the prescription ones that helped Rude see. Rude had to deal with the fact that he was losing his sight slowly but surely because of a genetic disorder and fighting when he had been younger. The illegal street fights were a way or him to bring in money after his father left, when his mother lost her sight. 

The small potted plant that every one works so hard to keep alive is a tribute to just how much every one of the Turks miss Arieth and Zack. The flower was from Arieth's sanctuary. They all know what the two of them meant to Cloud, to all of them. Cloud, who is still coming to terms with the death of his best friend, just before the botched mission. Cloud had turned his back on a captive in his inexperience and had almost lost his life. No one mentioned the fact that the house Cloud lived in also housed way too many orphans. They also didn't talk about how each member of the Turks helped out at with the orphans however they could; be it time, clothing, or funds. When Tifa gave Reno the hand painted pot, the loud mouth red head handed it to Tseng, who put Arieth's plant in it. They were waiting to Cloud to recover and rejoin them. Tseng wasn't even going to touch the fact that the guy was a Solider in the Turk department.

The scrap of red fabric lying on the shelf was part of Valentine's cloak. Valentine, who often found himself at odds as he tried to justify his work both with Shinra and the scientist. The guy couldn't decide if he was working for or against the company. Had he made the right decisions? Should he have remained a bodyguard, or should he have allowed Rufus to have the final say in this instance.

The book of daily devotionals wasn't the first thing to come to mind when Tseng thought of the former director of the Turks. Neither man was all that religious, they couldn't be with this job. Veld had tried to ignore the fact that it was his job to send his friend out to die. That he had, at one time, sent his own family to their deaths. Tseng swore it was what had the guy going crazy. Veld used to read the devotional as a way of coming to terms with dealing in death for so long. His going AWOL when he found out that his daughter was alive, sure hasn't helped his form of crazy.

Cissnei has known no other life then Shinra and the Turks. Often Tseng wondered if raising her as a miniature warrior had been a good idea. She was so, he didn't want to say brainwashed, but so fucking loyal. That loyalty came at a cost. Cissnei's first and last thought was for Shinra even at the expense of her life. Tseng fingered the extra small shurikens that Cissnei made. They were scale replicas of the oversized weapon she loved to wield and just as dangerous.

The grenade pins soldered together to form a bracelet was from Elena. She was the youngest member but was consistently fighting against family pressure. The legacy of her sister and the expectations of her father. The fact that she kept trying to corner him left Tseng feeling a little uncomfortable. She was cute, but God she was young.

Hell you could pick anyone of the twenty or so members directly under his command and come up with many similar stories, the memories there on the shelves for Tseng to revisit. Tseng ran his fingers through his hair, tying it back at the nape of his neck. No mention of the red ribbon being a gift from someone else, another memory. The scraps of debris around his office were constant reminders of his men. Their stories brought him comfort.

"Yo boss man, you here?" Reno's red head peered around the door frame.

"Yes, Reno. What is it that you need?" Tseng's tone as formal as ever.

"Rufus just called. You weren't answering your phone. We're needed." Just as quickly Reno disappeared back into the outer office used by the rest of the Turks.

Tseng just shook his head as he walked out of his office towards the outer door and a waiting red head. The fact that Reno routinely called him boss man, but called the President of Shinra by his given name never ceased to amaze him. Insubordination was the least of Reno's fault, or maybe it was better to call it Reno's blatant disregard for hierarchy. "Let's not keep the president waiting then. Did he ask for anyone on particular?"


End file.
